Evan visibly tensed. His smile disappeared. Something in his body language shifted. I told him I’d get the door and walked over, clueless to the storm that was about to walk in.
The Woman Who Brought Luggage and Trouble
I opened the door to a sharply dressed woman in a navy coat with pearl buttons. At her side were two enormous suitcases that looked like they’d survived a transatlantic voyage.
“Hello, dear,” she said smoothly. “I’m going to live here now. And I’ll take the young one’s room.”
It was Claudia—Evan’s mother.
I stood frozen, stunned by the icy boldness in her voice. She didn’t ask. She didn’t knock. She announced her stay as if it were a royal decree.
The room went dead silent behind me. Even Lily peeked from the hallway, a crayon in her hand, unsure of what was happening.
And then Claudia said the words that made my heart stop cold:
“Your daughter from your first marriage is not welcome here.”
A Mother’s Wrath, A Grandmother’s Shield
Lily’s face crumpled in confusion. I pulled her into my arms, and the room seemed to tilt. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t respond. All I felt was a mix of fury and heartbreak while my daughter sobbed softly into my shirt.
That’s when my mother stepped in.
Margaret—quiet but unshakable—set down her spoon, wiped her hands on a napkin, and stood like a soldier ready for battle.
She didn’t shout. She didn’t flinch. But every word she spoke struck with precision.
“Claudia,” she said, her voice calm but firm, “I wasn’t aware you had purchased this apartment.”
Claudia blinked. “Of course not, but Evan—”
My mom raised an eyebrow and cut her off.
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